


A Too Big World

by MelissaMelody



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Established Relationship, Flashbacks, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Post-Canon, depictions of recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:20:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21971971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelissaMelody/pseuds/MelissaMelody
Summary: "Quit that," Heymans said, pulling his shoulder away. "It itches.""You say that every morning," Jean mumbled, more to the pillow than to Heymans."If it's true, I'm gonna say it."Jean snorted. They had this exact conversation every morning, but it was never going to get old. Not when it was with Heymans."Have you told your mom yet?" Heymans asked.
Relationships: Heymans Breda/Jean Havoc
Comments: 5
Kudos: 34
Collections: FMA Gift Exchange 2019





	A Too Big World

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kawaiirun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kawaiirun/gifts).



> Given as an FMA gift exchange gift for @kawaiirun!! I'd never really thought about this ship before, and it was really fun to delve into it. Not quite sure I'm a convert yet, but I am interested. Enjoy!

Jean sighed, burrowing further into the bedding. His face didn't stick to Heymans shoulder, so it was clearly morning since that meant enough of his stubble had grown in. 

"Quit that," Heymans said, pulling his shoulder away. "It itches."

"You say that every morning," Jean mumbled, more to the pillow than to Heymans.

"If it's true, I'm gonna say it."

Jean snorted. They had this exact conversation every morning, but it was never going to get old. Not when it was with Heymans. 

"Have you told your mom yet?" Heymans asked. 

Jean cracked his eye open, looking up at his boyfriend. 

"She's from the east! I know what everyone says about it, and if you haven't told her but you show up with me instead of some pretty girl who can pop out babies or something-"

"I have seven siblings, Heymans," Jean said. He worked his arms under his chest, preparing to push himself up. The knot of pain was in his back, just like every morning, waiting to be stretched out. Just like, well, every morning. "She's already drowning in grandkids and I know two of my sisters are pregnant. She doesn't need one more kid popping out babies."

"Need and expect are different," Heymans said.

"My mom's gonna love you," Jean said. He pushed up, testing against the knot in his back to see just how back it was. The next noise out of his mouth was a garbled mess of pain. His arms went out from under him, and he face planted into the pillow. 

"Jean!" Heymans said. His hands were on Jean's shoulders immediately, trying to roll him over.

"I'm fine," Jean said. He pushed with one arm, turning onto his side to face Heymans. He went limp for a minute, trying to relax out the tension from the jolt of pain. Heymans kept hovering over him, one steady hand on his hip, the other slipping under Jean's head to cup his cheek. 

"Is it worse today?" Heymans asked.

"It's always worse when I don't sleep in my own bed," Jean said. "Not too bad though, considering."

He kissed Heyman's palm, watching him duck his head with embarrassment. He loved the pink tinge to cheeks. It didn't suit him in the slightest, so Jean loved it. 

"Help me rub it out?" Jean asked. Heymans nodded, using his grip on Jean's hip to lay him face down on the bed again. His palms were warm, skidding over his back to the knot of pain. Lust had taken a lot from him, but what she had done gave him just as much in return. 

*~*~*

_Jean looked around the office nervously. Mustang had moved into bigger and better digs, but that also meant more people were joining up with his team. So far, Jean was the only one there. Hawkeye's coat was on the rack, and there was already a pile of papers on Mustang's desk to get a start on the eternal piles, but other than that it looked like every other sparse and barely used office in any HQ in the country._

_"Hey, is this for Colonel Mustang?"_

_Jean turned to the door. He recognized the man standing there, his old academy buddy._

_"Breda!"_

_"Havoc!"_

_Jean stood up, coming up to shake Breda's hand and pull him in for an appropriate man-hug. The man already had his sandwich ready, wrapped in paper and tucked under his arm._

_"Good to see you, Havoc," Breda said. He pulled back, leaning out the door. "This is for Colonel Mustang, right?"_

_"Yep," Jean said. "Looks like we get to be office mates."_

_"Does he know what he's getting into?" Breda asked. He picked a desk, dropping his coat on the chair and tucking his sandwich into one of the drawers._

_"If he doesn't, Hawkeye does," Jean said. He sat back down in his chair, tilting it back with his hands behind his head. "It'll be good to work with you again."_

_"Yeah, it sure will."_

*~*~*

Heymans drove the car from the hotel, the last bastion of homo-friendliness he had been able to find. Meant there was a longer ride to Jean's family home, but Jean understood his fear. His family had done it to them, so Jean would make the little changes to keep his boyfriend feeling safe. 

The spring day was nice, otherwise. Fresh morning sun and air streamed into the car and ruffled their hair. It smelled cleaner this far out than in the city, and Jean had to admit he missed it. Constantly, achingly, but the people he made his promises to didn't live out here, they lived in Central. So Central was where Jean lived.

"Do you remember the first time I brought you one of your sandwiches?" Jean asked, breaking the silence. 

Heymans huffed a laugh. "Yeah, I do. I thought you'd asked the girl at the counter what I usually got, not remembered the whole thing yourself."

"Pickles, peppers, extra mayo, double meat," Jean recited. He loved watching Heymans laugh, hearing him laugh, making him laugh.

"Why did you bring me a sandwich that day, anyways?" Heymans asked. He stretched his fingers away from the steering wheel, some of the tension he had been holding bleeding away.

"Wanted to see the look on your face," Jean said. 

"What look?"

"The happy 'I'm gonna eat this thing' look you get."

"That I get?"

"It's one of my favorite looks," Jean said. He shifted on the seat, pushing one hip out to keep the knot in his back stretched out. "You get it for one of your sandwiches, for cake, for one of those artisinal beers you like."

"That's why you bring me that stuff all the time, isn't it?"

"Are you accusing me of doing everything I can to keep my boyfriend happy, Heymans Breda?"

Heymans laughed again, reaching over to shove at Jean's shoulder. "You're a sap."

"So're you," Jean said. He leaned back again, plucking his cigarettes from the door pocket and pulling one out. 

"Only for you, Jean," Heymans said. 

Jean watched him for a minute, being city-careful driving in the country. He tapped his cigarette on the pack before lighting it, taking a long draw from it. 

"That's how I like it," Jean said. "Lets me know you're in this for a long while."

"I'm not going anywhere," Heymans said. He glanced down long enough to take Jean's hand, threading their fingers together. Jean closed his eyes and leaned back. This would be enough of a life.

*~*~*

_Jean stared out the window. It wasn't like there was much else he could do, stuck in the bed like he was. The nurses had controlled how many cigarettes he could have in a day, so there wasn't even anything for him to do with his hands all day while paperwork filtered through the bureaucracy to determine what the military was going to do about his injury._

_Injury. Ugh, he hated that. It was more than an injury, but at the same time that's all it was too. He got hurt. Not all that many people cared that it changed everything about his life. It was just a little pain, he'd get over it and move on._

_It was hard to move on when you couldn't walk._

_"Havoc?"_

_Jean looked over, trying to twitch his lips up into a smile at Breda. "Hey."_

_"Is for horses," Breda said. "You look bored."_

_"I am bored."_

_"Well, I've got a solution for that."_

_Breda's hand dipped into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cards. "Poker or Go Fish?"_

_"Poker," Jean said. "I kept saying I was gonna beat you one day."_

_"I'll enjoy the money until you actually manage to," Breda said. He dragged over a chair and the stupid tray thing Jean had to eat off of, opening the pack and shuffling the cards._

_"Five card pull, aces high," Breda said._

_"What, I don't get to pick first?"_

_"I brought the damn cards!"_

_Jean smiled. Breda house rules, bringer of the cards goes first. "Fine. Deal em out."_

_Jean watched his hands closely, knowing just what sort of tricks those fingers were capable of. And maybe wondering if..._

_'No,' Jean thought, 'I can't burden anyone with this. It's my burden to bear.'_

_He picked up his cards, and wished he had a cigarette. It would be so much easier to lie with that in his hand. And easier to pass off groans of disappointment as something else._

_Bye bye, pocket change. It was good knowing you._

*~*~*

Jean pulled his arms up as far as he could before leaning forward. His back was killing him for having been sitting in a car for that long, but they made it to the house in time for a late lunch. He barely had any warning before a swarm of nieces and nephews were surrounding him, pulling at arms and legs and pockets. It wasn't that hard to corral them all with the promise of candy, getting them all to behave for all of the twenty seconds he needed to get the bag of candy from the car. He doled out one piece to each of them, and they darted away with their prize before any cousin or sibling could contest it. 

"That is a lot of kids," Heymans said, standing very close to Jean but not touching him. 

"It's what my mom gets for having eight herself," Jean said, draping his arm over Heymans's shoulders. He squeezed for a moment, but dropped his arm away at the tension Heymans was holding there. "C'mon, lets go in before they come back for more."

Jean led the way up to the door, knocking on the frame before slipping in past the screen door. "Mom?"

"Jeanie!" Jean's mom stepped out of the kitchen, a towel in her hands. "Was it you all the kids were screaming at?"

"Penny candy shuts them all right back up," Jean said. He leaned in and hugged his mom, turning back to look over his shoulder. 

"And you are the infamous Heymans Breda." Jean watched his mom march right up to Heymans, ignoring his outstretched hands to pull him into a tight hug. "You call me Mary and we'll all get along just fine."

Mary turned back towards the kitchen again, sweeping both men in with her. "I've got lunch for you two. Did you really drive all the way from Harrison this morning?"

"That's where the hotel we picked was," Jean said. "What's for lunch?"

"Sandwiches," Mary said. Heymans looked at Jean pointedly, a slight scowl on his face. Jean smiled, and held up a finger to him.

"What _kind_ of sandwiches, Mom?"

"Pickles, peppers, extra mayo, extra meat," Mary said. "Couldn't get my hand on any of the long rolls this morning, Carol said there was a run on them today, so I got extra dinner rolls and made half pints."

Jean watched Heymans's face, his grin growing wide enough that his face was starting to hurt. 

"You know my sandwich order," Heymans said. 

Mary turned around. "Of course I do. I would hardly be a good hostess without knowing that, and I can't claim to be treating my kids's chosen ones right without it either."

"What?" Heymans said, turning to look at Jean. The look of shock on his face was too much, and Jean started laughing. 

"Chosen ones," Mary said. "Most of my kids have kids of their own at this point, but Liz is bringing Charlotte over by dinnertime and Jean brought you."

"What?" Heymans said again. Mary looked at him, then smacked Jean with her towel. 

"You told me he'd be ready for all of this!" Mary said.

"He is, he is," Jean said. He lifted his arms up to defend himself from further attacks from a towel. "Just gotta give it a minute to sink in."

"For what to sink in?" Mary said. "That I'm a decent person of a decent stock who won't throw my kids out because they love someone I don't approve of?"

"Yeah," Jean said. He looked up at Heymans, his grin still wide. Mary did too, sighing and dropping her towel on Jean's head.

"You have a place here whenever you want it, Heymans," Mary said. She put her hands on his shoulders, her grip tough. "You make my son happy, and that is everything that matters to me. I don't need anything but to know he's happy."

Heymans blinked back tears rapidly. Mary swiped at his cheeks with her thumb, patting his cheek.

"Sit and eat. Food makes everything better." Mary steered Heymans to the table, plopping him down in the chair next to Jean. The platter scraped across the worn wood, sliding in front of Heymans. "There's ham and cheese for you, Jeanie."

"Thanks Mom," Jean said. He picked up the first small sandwich on his end of the platter, watching Heymans closely. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Heymans said. He picked up a sandwich himself, staring at it. "You weren't kidding."

"I told you," Jean said. "Now eat. She's right about food making everything better."

*~*~*

_Jean wheeled himself in slow circles, watching the crowd and needing something to do with his hands. Most people gave cripples a wide berth anyways, so he had plenty of space in the train station to just wheel around. He kept the circle tight around his duffel bag, but it was plenty large. People gave him even more space without thinking about it._

_"Havoc!"_

_Jean looked up to see Breda cutting through the crowd. He wore clothes that were actually tailored to his body type, and he looked better than he ever did in any sort of military uniform._

_"You got stuck with coming and getting me?" Jean asked, settling to wait for Breda to get up to him._

_"Volunteered," Breda said. "C'mon, you're staying at my place until your appointment."_

_Breda snagged Jean's duffel, starting off and only just waiting long enough to check that Jean had started after him too._

_"Why your house?" Jean asked. Keeping up with Breda wasn't easy, no matter how used he was to wheeling himself along by this point._

_"I don't have stairs between you and anything you need," Breda said. "Got an apartment with a lift in the building. Everyone else had steps somewhere."_

_"Just steps, huh."_

_"Mustang's the only one with space anyways, and he's still busy crowing about not needing help himself anymore. I've got you."_

_Breda led Jean to a car, all the help he gave without being asked opening the door. Jean pulled himself into the car, asking Breda to fold up his wheelchair. It was easy, like back when they were in academy, or working for Mustang before everything had gone to shit. While settled in the car, Jean could just feel like he was sitting and talking with a friend again. Breda gave him a run down of what everyone on the team was up to while they drove along, and the chatter was just so nice Jean didn't stop him or tell him that everyone kept him in the loop to some degree or another._

_"Here we are," Breda said. He parked the car in front of a modest apartment building, six or so stories in a plain brown brick._

_"You get to just park out front?"_

_"Dropping off stuff," Breda said. "I'll go park better once you're upstairs."  
_

_Jean reversed getting in the car, this time Breda getting his wheelchair without being asked but doing no more than that. It was an easy wheel up to the front of the building, a ramp set just to the side of the staircase. It was a good and easy ramp for Jean, with plenty of space at the top for him to turn._

_"This is a nice place," Jean said. "You sure you live here normally?"_

_"Yep," Breda said._

_Up in the lift to the fourth floor, Breda led Jean to apartment 4G and let him in. The whole space was laid out with plenty of space between everything, plenty of space to maneuver his wheelchair. Bedroom for him pointed out and bathroom door directed to, Breda headed back down to move his car, leaving Jean alone._

_'What the hell,' Jean thought to himself. 'Even my mother didn't manage to make everything this clear.'_

*~*~*

Jean slipped through the door of his old bedroom, closing it softly behind him. Heymans looked up from the book he was holding. 

"Thought I'd find you up here," Jean said. "How'd you know which one was mine?"

"Mary told me," Heymans said. He glanced around and grinned. "This matches you."

"Gee, thanks," Jean said. He dropped down on the bed next to Heymans, leaning back to lay on his back.

"You still okay?"

"Yeah," Jean said. "Swinging some of the kids around helped. Moving helps."

Heymans reached out and ran his hand through Jean's hair. Jean closed his eyes and leaned into it. He knew these private moments were going to be the most affectionate Heymans got until they wet back to their apartment in Central.

"How'd you get all the way up here with the wheelchair?" Heymans asked.

"Had two," Jean said. "Upstairs and downstairs. Downstairs one went to the store with me too. Jenny and her family were here then, and between her husband and Mikey they could carry me up. Or I'd just pull myself up by the elbows."

"Mud crawl the whole way, huh?"

"Gotta do what you gotta do," Jean said. He darted forward, managing a quick kiss to Heymans's wrist. 

"Hey!" Heymans said. He puled away, tucking his arms in against himself. 

"Sorry," Jean said. He folded his hands under his head and stared up at the ceiling. "Y'know, my mom wasn't even surprised when I told her I like guys and girls."

"She wasn't?"

"I keep telling you she isn't the stereotype."

"You never said I didn't need to worry."

Jean sighed and lifted himself up. "There are plenty of people in the neighborhood who do have a problem with it. Plenty of people who would hurt us for it. I can't vouch for all of my siblings' spouses, but Mom won't stand for it under her roof and they know it."

Jean put his hand on Heymans's shoulder, keeping it as light and as chaste as he could. "You're safe here."

"I'll believe that when it isn't over-run by kids."

Jean laughed. "That is never gonna happen."

Heymans groaned loudly, pushing Jean down on the bed when he kept laughing, which really just made him laugh even more. 

Jean stared up at him, the last of his giggles bleeding away. "You know I love you, right?"

"I do," Heymans said. He dipped down for a kiss, light and quick against Jean's lips. "And that means you wouldn't drag me somewhere dangerous without telling me it was dangerous first."

"Exactly," Jean said. "Now c'mon. Liz called from town. Lets go meet the other pair of gay pariahs."

*~*~*

_The appointment went well, as far as Jean could tell. Everyone said he could get up and walk around again with just one surgery. It would have to be in Central though, and be a long ways from his family. He didn't know if he was ready for that._

_"I mean, where would I stay?" Jean asked, flapping his knife around. He stabbed another chunk of expertly made steak into his mouth, chewing as he looked pointedly at Breda._

_"You could stay here," Breda said._

_Jean stopped chewing._

_"I'd charge you rent tho. Don't drop that knife."_

_Jean tightened his grip on his knife. Then he deliberately put it down. Then his fork too._

_"What do you mean I could stay here?" Jean asked._

_"That you could... stay here," Breda said._

_"You know I'd be as helpless as a baby, right?"_

_"Better here than in some group care place with nurses changing every hour."_

_"You would have to_ be _my nurse."_

_"I'd be okay with that."_

_Jean stared at Breda, watching him take another nonchalant bite of steak._

_"You'd have to wipe my ass."_

_"You trying to scare me off?"_

_"Maybe."_

_"You, Lieutenant Jean Havoc, are my oldest friend at this point." Breda set down his knife and fork. "You need me to wipe your ass, I'll wipe your god damn ass."_

_"I can't ask you to do that."_

_"I'm offering. Different direction, see?"_

_"I wouldn't have the balls to ask a wife to do that. And a wife would see me naked all the bloody time!"_

_"And she'd be damn lucky for it," Breda said._

_"She'd be... wait, what?"_

_"She'd be lucky to see you naked."_

_"Wha- how- the fu- why- says who?"_

_"Says me."_

_"What sort of expert are you then?"_

_Breda looked Jean in the eye. He was hesitating, breaking the break-neck speed of their banter._

_"_ _A gay guy who knows when another guy looks good."_

_Jean felt his mouth drop open. He knew he looked ridiculous, but Heymans Breda? Gay?_

_"You're not doing this on the off chance I'll fuck you, right?"_

_Breda's stare turned to a glare. "I wasn't even going to bring it up, so no."_

_"Right," Jean said. He leaned back, using his chair to hold his, well, everything up._

_"Besides, I know I wouldn't have a chance with you anyways. You're all about the ladies."_

_"I'm about the men too," Jean said._

_Breda looked at him._

_"Seriously, I am. Just never really did more than think about it."_

_"Think about it with who?"_

_It was now his turn to hesitate and stare. Jean's mind was wheeling. Could he even admit it after what he'd just said?_

_"Havoc?"_

_"You, Breda." Jean closed his eyes and dug the heels of his palms against his eyeballs. He didn't want to look. "I thought about you. Not only you, but... mostly you."_

_Jean kept his eyes covered and closed. He waited for Breda to say anything. Do anything. Freaking breathe loud enough for him to hear it._

_It felt like eternity passed, but Jean's internal clock was too damn good. He knew it was less than a minute before he opened his eyes, peering between hands to look at Breda. With his mouth hanging open and his eyes bugging out. Jean cursed at himself, slamming his hands on his chair._

_"I'll just go," Jean said. "That's too much. I did too much, went too far, I'll leave and go find some care place. It's fine."_

_Jean wheeled back from the table, taking off for his room._

_"Havoc."_

_"You don't have to say anything else," Jean said._

_"Havoc."_

_"I know, I know."_

_"Havoc!"_

_"I'll find somewhere for the night."_

_"Jean!"_

_Jean lurched forward, his chair abruptly stopped by Breda pulling him back._

_"Breda, what are you doing" Jean asked. Breda dropped to his knees in front of him._

_"Getting you to shut the hell up already."_

_"What the hell do y-"_

_Jean's words were cut off by Breda planting his hands on his cheeks and kissing him. Lips to lips, pressing hard, pressing desperate._

_Breda pulled back after just a few seconds, letting go of Jean's face and backing away to the point he was sitting on his heels. Jean stared at him, words still glued to the back of his throat._

_"I thought you wouldn't," Breda said. "But I... I always wanted you to. I thought you being close like this would be enough, you know? Just get the itch and the need out from underneath my skin. Solid end-of-time when you went home, or moved out, or whatever."_

_Jean kept staring. His mouth was moving, trying to make words, but they still didn't make it out._

_"I got this place cause I knew you would fit in it. And you fitting was important."_

_"Important enough to do all of this?" Jean asked, waving his arm at the living room._

_"Yes."_

_"I cannot decide right now if I want to punch you or kiss you."_

_"I'd prefer it if you kissed me."_

_Jean reached out, took a fistful of Breda's prefect vest, and dragged him back in to do just that._

*~*~*

Jean was the first one in bed. He usually was, taking up the space to stretch a bit before settling in to sleep. Heymans knew to give him time for that before going to bed himself. It was good, usually meant he got a wonderful view of Heymans getting undressed. Only thing better that Heymans in a well-fitted vest was him wearing nothing.

"You sure it's just the two of us in here?" Heymans asked again.

"All the additions to the house," Jean said. "All of us got our own room, and we get to say who sleeps in our room when we're here. So yes, I am."

Heymans still looked uncomfortable, rubbing his hand along his arm. 

"No kids, Heymans. I know you need the break from them."

Heymans sighed, and finished stripping down to his boxers and undershirt. 

"Scoot," Heymans said, lifting up the blankets on one side. Jean did, pressing his shoulder into the wall. The two of them only just barely fit.

"I'll have to bring a bigger bed," Jean said. "If you're ever gonna come with me again."

"Only if I've got someone to talk to," Heymans said.

Jean snorted. "So, only when Liz and Charlotte come too. Got it."

Heymans laughed. "Yeah. I like them."

"You seemed to tolerate Jemma pretty well."

"She's quiet. And it looked like she was trying to hide from all of the kids just as much as me and Charlotte were."

"Yeah, she's a bit of an odd duck in this family."

Jean leaned in a bit, resting his head on Heymans's shoulder. Both of them relaxed, the tension running out and away from them in the quiet of the house.

"I think it would be okay to come back, though," Heymans said. "You like it here. I always forget how much you give up to stay in Central."

"It's worth it," Jean said. He kissed Heymans's shoulder, lingering so he could breathe in his scent. "I can visit whenever I want, and I get to live with you."

"Is it really worth living with me?"

"I love you," Jean said. He snaked his arm over Heymans's chest, pulling the two of them as close as he could. "And you love me which makes it all worth it."

"Do you ever think about how close we were to not getting this?"

"You could have stayed in your seat," Jean said. "Or not kissed me. I could have punched you after you did."

"So you do."

"And then I look at you and remember that it did happen, that we do have this, that we are in love and proud of it."

"Are you-"

"Heymans, I wouldn't have brought you home and showed you off to everyone else who matters to me if I wasn't."

Heymans turned his head and kissed the top of Jean's. "Okay, I believe you."

"Good. Don't stop. Now go to sleep. The family hike is tomorrow."

Heymans groaned, but did what he was told. 

They fell asleep holding hands, clinging to each other in the too small bed just as they did in the too big world they lived in.


End file.
